If you bite me without saying grace, have you sinned?
What if I decide to take. Eat?
Am I then an Eve?
Don’t banish me because I’m hungry
Banish me because you are.
And that’s not my fault.
All my life I’ve settled for meat and grain and now
Fruit! Something sweet,
With juices that mimic those of my own arousal.
Finally A food my body identifies with.
No man will shame me for take and eat.
I will engorge myself until my palms are red as pomegranates
sticky slapping any man who will police my nudity
my decisions, my body, my sex, my anger
and whatever the hell I have on my head at the time
whether it be hair, horsemeat, hay, hummus, or Halos
it is my head and I choose the crown.
The oppression is not in my choices
it’s in the persecution of them.
they’ve always said the black woman keeps a list of complaints
does the cow not scream as the butcher makes fine slices
and dissects the worlds food from its gut?
keeping us cut up fertilizes your world view
but what we bleed out…
black and speckled universe, darkness, soul, life,
and birthing hips your mama don’t know nothing about